Love Speaks
by sincerelyklaine
Summary: Blaine Anderson had settled for a mundane life of teaching in Lima, Ohio at the ripe age of 33. When one of his students turns out to be the child of his first love, he is determined to rekindle the fire they once had.
1. Prologue

**A/N: **Hello fellow gleeks, and hello to all you hard-core klainers out there. ;) So, in the midst of this terrible Klaine-love drought, I thought I'd shed a little light on the subject! Not that I really need to, because obliviously Kurt and Blaine are going to get back together at Christmas time and make a lovely duet out of White Christmas and then they'll ice skate off into the sunset together and have beautiful babies together and just wonderful Klaineliness forever. ... So yeah, just to fill my little void of Klaine for the next month, I've decided to upload this story. I've been working on/off with it since about July, and it's slowly starting to become something I'm sort of proud of. So, I've finally found the set of balls I need to upload it to the Glee public. But, we gleeks are a family, yes? I hope you'll be nice. Well, I guess that's it. Yeah- so here goes nothing. Enjoy!

... Or at least _try _to enjoy_._

* * *

**_ Prologue_**

Blaine Anderson sipped his medium drip coffee as he graded through a thick stack of pop quizzes he had given yesterday. After marking a failing grade on more papers than he thought he had students, he gave up, tossing his red pen and rolling back in his chair. It was a simple quiz, testing the identification of beat patterns, nothing his students hadn't covered in previous music courses.

Blaine had taken an interest in teaching when his niece had begun reading in school. She was a slow learner and it drove Blaine's older brother insane. Daniella would come home from school and cry about being different from other kids in her classes.

_"Daddy," her bottom lip quivered, "everybody laughs at me. Sarah says I'm stupid. Carter said that his brother is stupid like me, too. Am I stupid, Daddy?"_

"_Bug, no. You're not stupid; you just need a little more time to learn than your classmates. But, that's okay. It just means that one day, you'll be super smart, way smarter than all of the other girls and boys." He lifted his daughter onto his lap, brushing his fingers through her auburn curls. "But Daddy, I want to be smart… like you."_

_Cooper gave her a sad smile, "It took me a long time to be as smart as I am now, baby. But I promise, you'll learn. You just have to work extra hard for Daddy, okay?" She bowed her head and twiddled with the hem of her shirt, not fully understanding why she had to wait for the learning abilities that came so easily to her friends._

_"I want to learn now!" She pushed herself off of his lap and ran to her room, her small footsteps thumping up the staircase. Cooper ran his hands down his face and sighed. He reached to the coffee table for his cellphone and dialed his younger brother's number. "You've got Blaine._"

_"Blaine, I need you. It's Elle." He didn't mean to sound as dramatic as he did, but it was too late to correct himself._

_He listened to the static-like noise on the other end of the phone, that told him his brother had shifted his own phone into a different position, "Wait- is she hurt? What happened? I'm on my way over, just let me grab my keys-"_

_"No, no, Blaine, she's fine. Well, sort of. She's not physically hurt or anything, but I need you to come over." He sighed, hoping his younger brother would know what to do._

_"Say no more, I'll be there in ten." And with that, the line went dead._

After explaining Daniella's situation to Blaine, they decided to take her to her pediatrician, who recommended them to an office specializing in psychology and childhood development. They ran tests and evaluations on her brain and nerves, and came to a diagnosis that neither man expected to hear.

Daniella had dyslexia. She wasn't autistic, which was their first drastic conclusion, but she still had a learning disorder. _Getting smarter_ was going to be harder than a few extra classes and a tutor.

_The Anderson brothers sat in the stuffy doctor's office, waiting for Daniella to return from the back testing room. Cooper hung his head in his hands, hunched over in the blue, itchy sitting room chair. Blaine placed a soft hand on his brother's back, the memory of his own diagnosis day washing in the back of his mind._

_"Coop, it's not that bad. Look at me – I'm dyslexic and I turned out okay. A couple F's here and there in high school, but I made it. I can help her out with school work and stuff, tutor her from a dyslexic's point-"_

_Cooper looked up, his eyes heavy and worn. "You'll help her?"_

_Blaine smiled, warmly, "Of course."_

And he did.

Eleven years later, Daniella graduated at the top of her class, full-scholarship to Yale, pre-law. Blaine was only nineteen when he had begun tutoring Daniella, and after two years, he decided he wanted to go to college with it. He tried a few literature and basic math courses, but even he couldn't totally beat his disorder. So, he took a course in music and it instantly stuck with him. He'd always played guitar, and in college, he learned piano. He got his Bachelor's Degree in teaching and there he was; Lima, Ohio. William McKinley High School- 9th Grade Instrumental Instruction.

But it was times like these that really bothered Blaine. He hated giving bad grades, it told to his students that they had failed. It was harsh. He cracked his back against the chair, then slumped over his desk as he picked up another pen and moved onto the next quiz.

"Knock knock." A voice rang out from the far corner of his office. Instantly, his head snapped up. "Oh, hey Quinn." Blaine pulled all of the papers he had graded together and placed them him the bottom drawer of his desk, flipping the ungraded face down. "What's up?"

She strode into the classroom, shutting the door behind her and sat on a desk across from Blaine, avoiding his eyes. "So," she started, huffing air through her lips and glancing out the window, "Any new boyfriends lately?" She flashed a nervous smile, Blaine rolled his eyes. "What did you do?" She stiffened, eyes wide and unconvincing, "Nothing!"

He walked around and leaned onto the front of his desk, crossing his arms pointedly. "Cut it, Quinn. I've known you for, like, four years, and I know when you're lying. _Spill_."

She sighed as she got up and walked over to the door and chewed her lip, playing with her thumbs. "I, uh, need a favor…" She trailed off, turning for Blaine's reaction, half-heartedly smiling.

Blaine stood, tucking his thumbs in his jean pockets. "All ears." She nodded, and carried herself in front him, planting her feet confidently. Her heels clicked, slightly smudging the tiled floors, then she spoke, "Blaine, _Ineedyoutocovermyclasstoday_," He groaned, throwing his head back. "Quinn, why can't you make your_ own_ class today?"

Quinn threw her hands to her hips. "Come on, it won't kill you! I know your schedule, and today your free period is right before lunch, and_ I _have to fill that period, but I have somewhere else I really need to be. _Please_? I have to be at the office by eleven, and if I'm late, the doctor will _totally_ chew me out-"

Blaine looked toward her and frowned, "Doctor?"

Quinn's mouth clamped shut, she hadn't meant to tell Blaine where she was going, she knew he'd just end up cracking like typical, always-there-to-help Blaine and say yes.

Blaine watched her, worry already pooling in his eyes. "Quinn," he paced up to her gently, his hands molding around her shoulders, "Why are you going to the doctor? Are you hurt or something?" His faced scrunched when she removed herself from his hold. "What's wrong?"

Quinn folded her arms across her chest, giving an apprehensive smile, and began to explain. "Well no, nothing's really _wrong_, but I don't know. Look, I know we tell each other everything and all, but honestly, I was afraid of your reaction," she paused, finding Blaine's eyes. "Okay. Blaine, I am going to the doctor because- you know how I missed all my AM classes last week?" He nodded hesitantly. "Well, it's because I was totally puking my brains out." He grimaced and he opened his mouth to speak. Quinn put her index finger on his lips, silencing him. "I'm not finished yet. So, do remember me telling you how Puck and I have been thinking about marriage?" Blaine nodded. "Well, I guess that pretty much seals the deal."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "So, you're telling me you guys decided to get married because Noah likes it when you _throw up_? I've heard of weird kinks, even got a few of my own, but that's just nasty."

Quinn smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand and backed behind Blaine's desk, collapsing into his chair, shaking her head. "_You are such a boy_. Honestly, are you _that_ stupid? I mean, I thought Puck was an ass-" she looked up at him and his body had stiffened, embarrassed heat creeping up his neck. She quickly shook her head, "Sorry, hormones."

At this point, Blaine was a blind man flying a plane cross-country; he had no idea what where Quinn intended on going with the conversation, and he was beginning to become irritated. "Quinn! _Spit. It. Out._"

"Fine. I'm pregnant!"

Blind and deaf, definitely blind and deaf.

His eyes widened, almost popping out of their sockets. "You- you're- but I- you did-" He couldn't form words. An endless string of thoughts ran through his head. _How long has she kept this from me? What if the baby isn't Puck's? Are they ready for a baby? How was this going to affect her job, her paycheck? Why would she-_

"B, wake up." Quinn stood in front of him, snapping her fingers to get Blaine's attention. "Are you in shock? Do I need to get the nurse? Blaine?"

He shook himself, tearing away from his thoughts. "No, I'm here. I'm here."

"Good. Before you ask, yes, it's Puck's, and yes, we're keeping it."

Then, it hit him. Quinn was pregnant.

He grinned from ear to ear and enveloped her in a suffocating embrace, squeezing as tight as he could. "Quinn, you're pregnant! You're pregnant! Oh my god, you guys are going to be parents! Oh _wow_! I am _so_ happy for you! This is fantastic! You're gonna the perfect mother! I can't believe you-" Quinn let out a strangled breath and Blaine immediately jerked away, holding her shoulders tenderly. "Jesus Christ, I'm sorry! You're pregnant, and I'm totally smothering you! Are you okay? Do you think the baby lost any oxygen? Shit, _dammit!_"

Quinn giggled, pulling Blaine back into her arms. She nuzzled her face in his neck and inhaled, smiling to herself. "God, I love you, B. You're my best friend." Blaine responded, finally, taken off guard at the sudden admiration Quinn was showing. He wrapped his arms around her and chuckled to himself. _Hormones._

"I love you, too, Q. You are going to be a _great_ mom." Quinn pulled away and placed her hands on Blaine's cheeks. "So, my class starts in a half-hour. I already let the kids know that you'd be subbing, so they know to come to your classroom. I'll be back by one, okay?" She sped out, not giving Blaine any chance to refuse. "But Quinn-" She shushed him, giving him a quick peck on the lips, "Love you," she yelled over her shoulder and ran out of the room, leaving Blaine to prepare for his new class.

He stood, arms outstretched, still in the shape of his hold on Quinn, his mouth dropped and shoulders hunched. He rubbed his hands over his face and whined. "Fucking awesome. Dammit, Fabray, you owe me _big_."

It was settled. Blaine Anderson was going to teach a Sex Education class.

* * *

So there's the prologue. Do you love the Fabranderson friendship as much as I do? It's such a shame Darren and Dianna didn't get any storylines together, only a few short exchanges of words. Keeping my fingers crossed, though, because we've all seen the with Glee, _anything_ is possible. But anyway, I hope you enjoyed, or was somewhat entertained by this. I hope to update as often as I can, but only if people are interested.

Until next time,

Mancoocoo


	2. Chapter One

**A/N:** Well, hello fanfiction readers! Tis' me, the one and only Mancoocoo, or so I am assuming is the only one, and I have come bearing Chapter 1. I'm very grateful for those who have decided to follow my crazy ass story, and especially thankful for those you really did attempt to enjoy it. i know it was painful, but bear with me, people, we're getting there! In my own opinion, the Prologue was shit, but that's probably because I've read close to one thousand times since July. Be prepared for this chapter, ladies and gentlemen, because I love drama and angst, and I _love_ to start things off with a bang. You'll meet, personally, my favorite character of the story thus far, who is loosely based of the attitude of my own, but spiced up a bit. Some of the comments she makes are... out there, so keep in mind that one of my most favorite sayings is, "Honesty is the best policy." ... ;)

P.S. I would like to correct a mistake made in the prologue. Quinn and Blaine have known each other for _far longer_ than four years. This sorry has been reworked and gutted raw, so that was a little detail I failed to edit out. They've known each other since their Mckinley days!

And _awaaaayy_ we go!

* * *

_Torture. _It was the only word to surface for Blaine, because having a class for of fourteen year old, hormone_ enraged, _high school freshman staring up at him expectedly, was_ not _Blaine'a idea of entertainment.

Blaine sat behind his desk, as usual, hands clasped together, palms sweaty. There weren't that many students, maybe sixteen at the most; it was a decent sized class. Sex Education had just recently been reinstated at McKinley. Nervous parents were wanting to expose their children to sex as soon as possible. Quinn and Blaine laughed about it; both agreeing that learning about sex started long before high school.

Nonetheless, it was still a class, and Blaine was left to teach.

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "So, hi guys. A few of you may know me from your instrumental class, but if not, I am Mr. Anderson, and I teach Instrumental Instruction here at McKinley." He paused, then exhaled, shaking away his sudden nerves. "Miss. Fabray didn't leave me with any lesson plans. Is anyone willing to explain to me we're she left off with you?" Blaine watched as the students didn't take notice to his attempt at an introduction.

He glanced around the room, surveying what he had to work with for the next thirty minutes. They were typical high school stereotypes; three girls in cheerleader uniforms sat on the far end of the room, near the windows. Behind, four jock-type boys attempted to flirt, causing the girls to giggle. Along the front was a set of a boy and three girls in very fashionable attire, passing a single note between each other. On the desk of the girl in the center, a binder plastered with stickers from Broadway shows sat.

In the back of the room was a pair of boys, one in dirty clothing, covered in paint; the other wearing dark clothing, fingernails filled in black. Then, flowing in the middle were two girls. One had dark skin, and was aimlessly scribbling on a her note pad in her lap. The other was quieter, tugging at her braided, dusty-brown hair. Blaine thought he'd recognize a few students, but wasn't completely sure; he was never really great with faces.

"Guys, _guys_! Quiet down, everyone! Guys!" Blaine sighed, the class was more rambunctious then his music kids. He glanced up at the clock hanging above the door; twenty-three minutes. Twenty-three minutes until his lunch break, and he could relax.

Soon enough, wads of crumbled up paper were being thrown across the room, and laughter erupted from a few of the students. Blaine stood immediately. "That's _enough_," he yelled sternly. The class became quiet, one froze in mid throw, then stuffed the wad into his friend's binder.

"I certainly hope this isn't an example of your behavior with Miss. Fabray. She speaks very highly of you all, and I'm beginning to see that her opinion is a little biased. I was planning on this being a relaxed class, but I can always have you copy down last year's edition of Webster's dictionary if that's not the case." The class gave a collective groan. "I didn't think so."

Blaine sat back down in his desk and nodded. "Because I haven't a clue as to what Miss. Fabray really _teaches_ you guys in this class, I was thinking you all can feel free to ask me any questions you have that maybe you can't ask Miss. Fabray, or haven't gotten the chance to ask yet. I promise to answer the question to the best of my abilities."

_Nothing_. He did see, however, the girl with the braided hair smirk slightly, chuckling to herself.

Probably laughing at him, no doubt.

"No one has any questions? Nothing at all? It's doesn't have to be about sex, I'm all ears!" Blaine pulled at the back of his neck, trying to ease the uncomfortable atmosphere for himself. He had to credit Quinn, she must be really great with these particular kids if she can get them to talk, or move, or _breathe_. Everyone looked bored with Blaine, and Blaine didn't have any idea what to do about it.

Then, out of his peripheral vision, he saw a hand raise. It belonged to the girl who'd been laughing at him. He remembered her from one of his classes. She was talented, having already picked up both guitar and piano prior to taking the course. She impressed Blaine with her playing tests, running fluidly through each string of notes as if it were as easy as breathing.

He smiled at her, "Carson. Carson Hummel, right?" She nodded, dropping her hand back to lap. "Okay, Miss. Hummel, ask away."

She exhaled, "Why do we never talk about gay sex?" Blaine eyes widened, not expecting such a blunt question to come from, who he thought, was a sweet, soft-spoken girl.

The class laughed, the jock-boys making snarky comments towards each other. Blaine faltered, "Well, I don't really think that's a question I sho-"

"Because the rest of the world wasn't raised by a couple of fags, like you, Hummel," one shot out, making a face at Carson and bumping fists with the other boy behind him.

Blaine puffed up, "Watch your mouth, young man. I will not allow that language to be used in my classroom," he reprimanded, and the offender only rolled his eyes.

As he turned his attention back to Carson, Blaine frowned, seeing her head faced down to her lap, her cheeks crimson red. Blaine had dealt with his fair share of homophobic bullying, and didn't wish the feeling on anyone.

"Carson," he tried, hoping to get back to her question, but she only slouched down in her seat more. "Carson," he repeated, and she looked up. Blaine have her a warm smile, and she slowly sat up, letting her hands rest on her desk.

"Carson, that's a really interesting question. I don't think many schools do have required sex education classes, let alone classes solely based on what sex is like for gay kids. For me, I think it's ignorance, maybe even fear, too. Like, the fear of pushing people's limits, and stepping outside comfort-zones. What do you think?" He gestured for Carson to speak, standing up to lean on the white board behind him.

She faltered, eyes wide and nervous. "W-Well, I, uh, I think that being gay and being forced to take a class like this one is, uh, stupid. Kind of like, a waste, s-sort of. You know, because the m-mechanics are different, I guess. And, uh, yeah. Yeah, that, uh, that's it, I guess." She looked around the room, but avoided all the pairs of eyes burning into the back of her head.

Grinning, Blaine said, "Very good point, Carson. Excellent, anyone else happen to agree?" He watched as hands lifted to the air. All three girls in front raised their hands, watching the boy at the end of the row, enthusiastically throwing his hand up, holding his beret to his head with the other.

Carson let out a little laugh, smiling at the boy who Blaine assumed was her friend. Just as he was going to comment, one of the jocks scoffed, "Of course Parker's for banging the gays. He's a queer as a three dollar bill!" The group around him stifled a laugh as he clasped his hands next to his cheek and mockingly batted his eyelashes. "I bet he and Carson are just the best of friends!" The class bellowed out into a fit of giggles, all but the front row of girls, Carson, and Parker.

"_Enough_," Blaine growled, nostrils flaring. "I will _not_, under _any_ circumstances, tolerate bigotry in my classroom. Nor will I endure _slander, _and _disrespect_ toward anther student. You," he pointed to the boy, who nudged his elbow into the side of the kid next to him, whistling. He looked up, and smirked at Blaine. "Up front, now." The boy rolled his eyes, and stood, strutting over to Blaine and planting his heels in front of Blaine.

"Care to give an explanation? Because I strongly believe Carson and Parker _both_ deserve one."

The boy shook his head slightly, clearly uninterested. "If they weren't such fag hags, maybe we'd lay off," he grumbled, not soft enough for Blaine to miss. Blaine crossed is arms, garnering his expression, trying to keep calm as best he could. "What part of, 'not tolerating that language,' did you misinterpret?"

"Heard you loud and clear, _sir,_" the boy pushed, not caring for boundaries, or consequences.

Blaine took a step forward him, hovering over the boy by no more than a foot. "Name?"

"Seth Lorenzo Anello. It's Italian, I flew there last year for family. Beautiful language, no?" The name rolled of his tongue with a toothy smile, and all Blaine could do was squeeze his thumb in his palm, desperately trying to control himself. He'd had a few kids like Seth over the years, and never could quite control his temper.

He sneered at the boy, tightening his eyebrows together. "Well _Seth_, _Come volete un biglietto per l'ufficio del preside_?" The boy's eyebrows raised, clearly not understanding what Blaine had said..

"I, uh, I don't know," he mumbled, glancing to the floor.

"Oh, I think you do." Blaine reached behind his desk and grabbed a hall pass from the top draw, handing it to Seth. "Maybe a trip to the principals office will give you a chance to think before you speak. Off you go," he motioned to the door, and Seth turned on his heels, shoving a hand in his letterman jacket's pocket.

"At least I'm not going to hell," he said to himself, and before Blaine could catch him, he was out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Blaine sighed, shaking his head and turning back to the class. "Anyone else have anything they'd like to say?" Everyone watched in shock, they're jaws slack after watching the scene play out before them. "Great." Blaine glanced is wrist-watch, "Well, class should be ending soon, so great job today, to the majority of you, and have a wonderful weekend."

Just then, the bell rang out, and the class hustled their books together. They scurried out of the classroom in a crowded dash. Caught in the mob was Carson, her books sprawled across the floor. In the rush, they were knocked of her desk, and the rush almost knocked Carson to the floor, as well.

Blaine watched the last student walk off to lunch, and he turned, seeing Carson shrunk down to her knees, reaching for a book thrown under the desk in front of her. Blaine sighed walking over and grabbing a blue binder of the floor. He knelt down on one knee and handed it to her. "Is this yours, too?" She glanced up and nodded, pushing the binder in her arms; the pile was sloppily squeezed between her arms and chest.

Blaine smiled softy, helping her stand. She avoided his eyes, placing the pile on a desk to straighten it out. She pulled the books back in her arms and rested them on her hip, shuffling past Blaine. "Thanks," she spit out, and headed for the door. Blaine turned, calling out, "Wait, Carson, hold back for a second." She stopped, turning slowly.

"I was hoping I could have a word with you."

"Am I in trouble or something?" She bit her lip, eyes focused on Blaine.

Blaine chuckled, "Oh no, you've done nothing wrong. We just have a few things to discuss. I know this is your lunch period, so you can go grab your lunch if you like, and eat here," he offered, grinning. She shook her head, "I'm actually not that hungry." Blaine frowned, but nodded. "Okay, it's up to you, but we do have to talk. Take a seat anywhere you feel comfortable." She let out a quite sigh and sat in the desk in front of Blaine's.

Blaine went to his desk, pulled a water bottle out of his messenger bag and took a swig, gulping it down and turning his attention back to Carson. She was stiff, her hands clasped together and settled atop her desk. She looked around the room, her gaze vacant.

Blaine took his usual position in front of his desk, leaning back onto it. "So, Carson, I noticed you had some difficulty during class to- Carson? _Carson_." Her head snapped to answer Blaine, a small blush painted on her face. She chewed at the inside of her cheek saying, "Sorry, I do that a lot. I was just thinking," her voice trailed off, and Blaine furrowed his eyebrows, but nodded. "That's fine. You could do worse things than think, I suppose."

She nodded, "Yeah, sure."

"So, I was saying that I noticed your difficulty in class today. Any thoughts?"

Hesitantly, Carson forced out a laugh. "Oh, you mean Seth? No, no, we're cool. He just tries to get people to laugh, that's all. You know, the class clown? Yeah, he's just funny," she trailed off, chuckling dryly.

"Homophobic bullying isn't funny, Miss. Hummel. It is in no way a joke. I trust you know that."

She fidgeted, "But it's not like-"

Blaine crossed his arms, "Carson, please don't defend him. What he said you and Parker- it's wrong."

She sighed, resting his head in her hands and itching at a groove in the desk. "I'm used to it, I guess."

Pushing from his desk, Blaine squatted in front of Carson. He rested his elbows on his knees and watched Carson, who wasn't looking back at him. "You shouldn't have to be, Carson." She glanced at him, her cheeks washed a pale white. Her eyes looked heavy, and slightly blood shot. There was faint, blue shading under the, too. She looked exhausted.

"Carson, are you alright?" Blaine eyed her cautiously, standing.

"Never been better, Mr. A."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Blaine eyed her cautiously. He's noticed how she was always spacing out during class, and everyday she'd walk in with the same dead, monotone, look on her face. Whenever Blaine would ask if she'd like to see the nurse, or call home, Carson would give him the same answer ever time, _Never been better, Mr. A._

"Look, Mr. Anderson, I know you don't believe me, but I'm okay. This is just a part of high school that I have to endure. No matter how hard you, or my parents, or even I try, it's going to stay like this. So, just go with it. I'll live. It's not like they're shoving me in dumpsters or anything." She rose from her seat, pulling her books with her. "I think I'm going to head back to lunch. Thanks for the talk, sir."

Blaine sighed, "Alright, Carson, but if you ever want to talk, I'm always here. That goes for Miss. Fabray, as well, if you can't come to me."

She nodded and walked to the door, but she stumbled, tripping over what seemed to be nothing. She laughed, "It's these damn shoes, I have no grip."

Blaine narrowed his eyes, taking a step toward her. As she turned to the door again , she faltered and paused. "Mr. Anderrson, I-I actually feel like I'm gonna-" her face dropped and she fell to the floor, her books falling with her.

"Carson!" Blaine rushed over to her, but gravity was tooo wuick for him. Her head hit the floor with a _knock_, and Blaine cringed. He slide down on his knees and picked the girl up in his arms, resting half her body on his. He held her head, and a warm, sticky substance soaked his hand. Blaine grimaced at the sight; she had clipped the door stop with the back of her head. Shaking her lightly he said, "Carson, Carson wake up. Come on, sweetheart, look at me, open your eyes. _Please_, Carson." He patted her cheek with the tips of his fingers, but there was no response. He pressed to finger to the crease in her neck and sighed in small relief. "A pulse, small but there. It's okay," he convinced himself. He pushed his hand to the gash and shuddered, blood now soaked into a small spot on his jeans. He glanced up, and behind the door was a pair of girls who had watched the enter scene. He motioned with a jerk of his head to come in.

The door creaked open, "Yes, Mr. Anderson?" the girl looked down at the scene and her eyes popped, "Oh my god, Carson! Is she dead?"

"Becca, go get Miss. Clarke. Tell her call 911 and get to my room as fast as she can," Blaine said trough his teeth, trying to keep his cool. She nodded and ran off, the other girl left with a confused and shocked look on her face.

Blaine looked at her and half smiled, "I don't have you, do I? I'm not very good with faces."

She shook her head, her face stuck with a stunned expression. "I-I'm Lucy."

"Hi Lucy, can you do me a favor?" She nodded, hesitantly. "Could you gather Carson's books for her, please?" She nodded again and hustled to the floor, pushing all the notebooks and folders into a sloppy pile on the floor. "Thank you, Lucy. You can go if you like, just don't tell others that this has happened. It's bound to get around somehow, but we don't need anymore drama or rumors spread throughout this school, right?"

"I-I guess. Don't worry, I won't say anything. Bye, sir." She hurried out of the room and Blaine turned his attention back to Carson, who was still completely unconscious.

He'd never been in this situation, and quite frankly, he had absolutely _no idea_ what to do. He was also wondering what was taking the school nurse _so long_ to get to a student who is _unconscious_.

He shifted Carson. Resting her head in his lap, he kneeled, his hand finding the gash again and pushing to plug the bleeding. "Carson, hold on. Hold on just a little bit longer."

The door flew open, and the Miss. Clarke ran in. "Blaine, what happened?" She knelt down and took Carson, laying her on the floor, carefully. "God, she's bleeding. _What happened?_"

"I-I don't know. She was just leaving; she said she didn't feel well, and then she just _fell_. It was all so fast, and she hit her head. I tried to stop the bleeding. I tried to wake her up, but _nothing's happening_," he sputtered out, his hands sitting on his thighs. "_There's so much blood_."

His eyes watched with anticipation as Miss. Clarke worked. She went in her white, first-aid bag and pulled out a wad of gauze. "It's not that much, Blaine, but loosing any amount of blood isn't good." She lifted Carson's head and slipped the gauze beneath where the gash was. Miss. Clarke pressed her fingers to the inside of Carson's wrist. "Her pulse is slow, but it's there. We just have to keep pressure to her head and wait for the paramedics." Blaine nodded, taking Carson's hand in his, squeezing it tight. Miss Clarke placed a hand on his shoulder, "She'll be okay, Blaine."

He nodded, watching the still girl beneath them, hoping Miss. Clarke was right.

* * *

So, so we love Carson or do we love Carson? You didn't see much of her tude' in this chapter, but _trust me_, she's got enough sass to spread from the stars and back. She's a little spark of life and spunk and I just can't wait for her to meet you all! Anyway, did we like the chapter all together? I hope we did! Like I said, it's a bit if a cliffy, but fear not! I shall return before you've even noticed I've gone!

Until next time,

Mancoocoo


	3. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, and Brad Falchuck do, and don't they just _love_ to run it in our faces.

A/N; Hello friends who I have yet to meet, it's only me: Mancocoo. :) I've come with a brand spanking-new chapter for you wonderful people! I hope there are people still reading this... maybe.

I just want to talk about the fact the fact that the New Directions didn't win their Sectionals. I'm sorry, WHAT. There has to be a catch, they any just _not_ go to Nationals. Then Kurt got into NYADA- BEAUTIFUL. And now all we have to do is get through this Paul/Adam character Kurt love interest and we are in the clear!

Anyway, here's my update. Love you all ;)

* * *

The waiting room was eerily quiet. Blaine thought being in a hospital waiting room would be hectic—people scurrying in and out, hysterical family members, screaming children, even screaming adults—but there was nothing of the sort. Aside from him, there was one other family; a mother and father, and a small boy. He'd watched them enter the hospital with their daughter, who was treated for a broken wrist.

Miss. Clarke was originally going to accompany Carson in the ambulance, but Blaine insisted that she needed to stay for the other students' sake. The ride to the hospital was a mess. Carson remained unresponsive the entire time as the paramedics grilled Blaine with question after question; _Full name and age? How long has she been unconscious? Does she have previous history of fainting? When did she last eat? Does she have any pre-existing conditions? Have you reached her guardian yet?_

Blaine wasn't able to answer most of them, so they told him to simply stay quiet while they worked. They'd gotten her to the hospital in only a few minutes, and then he was ushered to the sitting room. So there Blaine sat, hunched back in the felted seats, hands clasped together, his chin resting on his fist.

He tapped his feet back and forth aimlessly, glancing around at the pale blue walls. If he had no morals, Blaine would've wished for some sort of action or excitement to burst into the waiting room. Then, as if by magic, a man rushed through the entrance doors, sprinting to the front desk. He wore tight, navy blue jeans and a grey blazer with three gold buttons holding it closed. A white scarf laced around his neck, but Blaine couldn't get a good look at his face; he moved to the counter and began to speak. "I'm here for Carson Hummel, I'm her father," he blurted out, panting from the run across the parking lot, most likely. "Where's is she," he demanded, "Where is my baby?"

The woman behind the desk looked up from behind her glasses resting on the bridge of her nose, an irritated expression plagued her face. "Sir, as of right now I don't have any information for you. So, if you would be so _kind_ as to take a seat and _wait_, I'd be glad to assist you when I'm finished with my work," she spat, a fake smile spread across her lips.

"You want me to _wait_ to hear if my daughter isdead or alive? Look," he squinted, reading the name tag pinned to the woman's shirt, "_Tanya_, we have been to hell and back with our lives in the past six months, and what I _don't_ need is you giving me that _prissy_, inconsiderate attitude of yours. So either you put a smile on your face and lead me to my little girl, or we are going to have _big_ problems," he snarled, and the woman's sat stiffly, her eyes wide and frightened. The man leaned in, coming within dangerous range of her. "That's a threat _and_ a promise."

She gulped audibly and stood, rushing to the back counter and out the door. The man snorted impatiently, fists clenched. The woman, _Tanya, _darted back hastily. She sat back in her chair and spoke, "You're daughter is with Dr. Collins, sir, to repair a laceration to the back of her head. Afterward, she'll be sent to the Radiation room for an MRI, to check for any brain damage. I can't let you back with Dr. Collins in the middle of the procedure, though, so would you mind waiting, Mr. Hummel?" she said calmly, but she was obviously terrified.

He shook his head, "Fine, I'll wait. Thank you _so_ _much_," the words dripped with sarcasm, and he turned to sit.

Blaine stood and gasped inwardly when he saw who the man was. _Hummel_. Carson _Hummel_. How had he not noticed? She'd been in his class for _three months_ and he never noticed. Taking a step forward, Blaine clears his throat. "Excuse me, Mr. Hummel?" The man looked up, and blinked rapidly when he saw Blaine. His hand crawled up to his mouth, and he gasped breathily.

"_Blaine Anderson_?" Blaine nodded his head, half-smiling.

"Hey Kurt, it's been long time."

Kurt shook his head in disbelief. "What in God's name are you doing in _Lima_? Last I heard, you were off to Los Angeles!"

Blaine laughed, "Yeah, that worked for a little bit. I went to college, got my degree in teaching, and here I am."

"Yeah, there you are."

The two stood awkwardly, not knowing what to say. Blaine eyed Kurt hungrily, noticing the change in his appearance. His styled had matured, but it still had a Kurt-essence. To add, Kurt was more filled, his arms were slim in his blazer, but more defined than Blaine had recalled. Kurt hadn't gotten much taller, and his hair was done differently; coiffed to the side, slightly bowing off his head. Nonetheless, he was still as breathtakingly beautiful as Blaine remembered.

Kurt snapped Blaine from his thoughts, and Blaine was grateful for it. Given another ten seconds of hopelessly staring, he probably would've begun to drool. "Degree in teaching? You're a teacher? Of _what_?" Blaine winced slightly at the disbelief in Kurt's voice. Kurt scrunched his face regrettably. "I didn't mean it like that."

Blaming nodded once. "Music," he said plainly, and Kurt smiled.

"I'm sure your students love you. My daughter, Carson, she took a music course at McKinley, it's her favorite class. She said the teacher always goofs up, but she likes him, 'says it makes him seem more human..." Kurt trailed off, hurt warming over his eyes.

Blaine chuckled heartily, "Yeah, I can never get any of my songs right for that class."

Kurt's head snapped up. "_What?"_

Blaine opened his mouth, wordlessly, giving Kurt a confused look. "I said, I can never get any-"

"No, I heard you the first time. I mean, _you're_ Carson's teacher?"

Blaine cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. "Yeah. I teach at McKinley; Grade 9 Instrumental Instruction."

"But she never said- wow, that's crazy."

"Yeah, crazy."

Kurt's eyebrows furrowed, clearly in deep thought. "Wait, so you teach at McKinley, and my daughter goes to McKinley. You're here, and my daughter's here..." He continued to connect the dots, not fully understanding.

"You're daughter passed out in my classroom, Kurt."

Kurt's eyebrows rise and he began to sputter out, "Oh my God, you came here with her!" Kurt cupped his hand over his mouth, "Oh my god, _what happened_? The school wouldn't tell me what was wrong with her- they just said she's here at the hospital. Then the woman behind the counter said she's got a gash on her head, and you just said she fainted and- oh _God_, what the hell happened?

Blaine sighed and gently began leading Kurt into a chair with a comforting hand "Come sit, I'll explain everything." Kurt sniffled and exhaled deeply, rubbing his hands down his face as he plumped down in a hospital chair. Blaine tenderly sat next to him, never removing his hand from Kurt's back. He savored the small contact, having not heard from or about Kurt in years.

Not taking his eyes off the floor, Kurt muttered urgently, "What happened?"

"Well, I was covering Quinn's class and your daughter-"

Kurt's eyes widened and he looked over to Blaine, "_Quinn Fabray_?"

Nodding, Blaine smiled. "Yeah, she teaches the Sex Education class. She's great."

Kurt grinned, chucking to himself. "I always told her she'd end up working with kids. She never believed me, but I always knew. I remember tricking her into taking that parenting class senior year; her reaction when she found out was priceless. She was so pissed at me, but it was totally worth the constant guilt trips. Her face just sparkled when she found out we'd be watching the kids at that daycare. I just knew it." His eyes wondered off, his face softening at the memory. "I would _adore _to see her again..."

"You can, she's Carson's teacher, too. I'm sure you're bound to meet up with her." Kurt nodded, and gestured for Blaine to continue. "Right, so I was covering for Quinn, and Carson raised her hand for a question and asked- uh, well she wanted to know about, uhm," Blaine rubbed his hands down his clothed thighs, not knowing how to tell Kurt his daughter inquired about sex.

Kurt raised an eyebrow questionably. "What?"

"_She asked about gay sex._" He murmured, but Kurt heard him perfectly clear.

He barked out a laugh, leaning over in his chair and grasping his stomach. Blaine watched with confusion as Kurt continued to huff out amusedly, his eyes watering a little. "Oh, _oh_ that's _great_," he said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "That's Carson for you, straight to the point. _Wow_, I needed that laugh." Blaine smiled ear to ear at Kurt's delighted expression. He always told Kurt his smile was his most magical feature.

"Yeah, I was a little taken back, because she usually doesn't talk all that much. I thought it was great she felt comfortable asking about it, but a few boys in the class didn't appreciate her honesty as much."

Kurt's smile immediately dropped. "What do you mean?"

"They started teasing her."

It took every nerve, bone, and muscle in Blaine's body to stop him for reaching over and enveloping Kurt in a comforting hug. Because the look on Kurt's face was absolutely, heart-wrenchingly crushing. Kurt turned his head, closing his eyes in frustration. "What did they say?"

Blaine frowned, both men knowing the answer. _It was because you're gay_, but Blaine didn't have the heart to tell Kurt that. Kurt would blame himself, and beat himself up for it.

"It was because of me, right?"

"Don't take it out on yourself- it's not your fault."

"But it is," Kurt said gritted teeth. "It's my fault she's bullied. It's my fault she can't have friends over because their parents don't trust me. It's my fault she's afraid to take the bus home because of what they might do to her. It's my entire fault. If I wasn't who I am, she would have an easier life. If I just wasn't so-"

_"Stop it, _Kurt!"

His mouth clamped shut, and he glanced at his feet. Blaine looked at him in disbelief. "What _happened_ to you, Kurt? Fifteen years ago, the Kurt _I_ knew wouldn't give a couple homophobes the satisfaction of breaking him. He would've told them to fuck off, not let them win! You were so _proud_ of who you were, Kurt, and that is one of the biggest reasons why everyone admired you."

"Yeah, getting tossed in dumpsters everyday shows _real_ appreciation. Just keep going, Blaine."

Blaine's face sagged sadly as he sighed. "Well, I asked her to stay after class so we could talk about it, but she basically put her fingers in her ears and started singing. She said everything was fine, and she was _dealing_. She went to leave, and she just _dropped_._" _Kurt shuddered, clenching his eyes shut. "I tried to catch her, Kurt, I swear, but I wasn't fast enough. She hit her head because I wasn't fast enough." Blaine balled his hands into fists. Kurt reached across his lap and placed his hand atop of Blaine's.

"Now, don't _you _go and start blaming yourself. If it's not my fault, it's _definitely _not yours_._"

Blaine chuckled, "Yeah, I guess. Anyway, she gashed her head on the door stop. She could've have fallen _anywhere else_ and just hit the floor, but of course her head found that one inch poking up from the tile. I didn't know what to do. I've had students faint before, but they always would wake up a few seconds later; Carson just _didn't_. So, I just held her. I kept telling her she'd be okay, but I think I was more or less trying to comfort _myself_. Then the paramedics came and now, here I am; waiting for any news."

Kurt smiled sadly, his eyes brimming with tears. "Thank you, Blaine. If anything, I'm glad you were there with her. Thank you. I just- I can't thank you enough. _Thank you_." He leaned across the arm of his chair and enveloped Blaine in a warm hug. Catching him by surprise, Blaine's eyes widened, but he smiled and wrapped his arms around Kurt, resting his chin on Kurt's shoulder. The musky vanilla smell of Kurt's cologne radiated off Kurt's body. It was still just the same as Blaine remembered. He milked in the aroma, letting the fond thoughts of Kurt performing his morning routine flush in his mind; Kurt sitting on his felted stool in front of his mirror, smiling at Blaine as he smoothed in his moisturizer over his cheek.

All to soon, though, Kurt pulled back, letting his hands drop to his lap. They locked eyes for a moment, and it felt like if they looked away, the world would explode right then; and for the sake of the planet's entire population, they just _had _to continue staring.

"Hummel, Carson?"

The rough voice of a doctor broke the ex-lovers from their gaze, causing them to blush profusely. They both rose from their seats and hustled over to the doctor, who held a clipboard in his hands. His wavy blonde hair was slightly gelled back and combed. He had bright blue eyes and crisp white teeth. Sea-foam green scrubs hung over his body, and a long, white coat lay atop them. He looked slightly aged, maybe mid-forties. "I'm her father, Kurt Hummel," Kurt said, toying with his hands nervously. Blaine took a step behind him, anxiously waiting for the doctor to speak. "Hello, I'm Dr. Collins. I worked on your daughter," he said with a friendly smile.

"Where is she? Tell me she's okay."

"Mr. Hummel, I can assure you she's alright. Though, your daughter gave us quite a scare. When she arrived here, her blood pressure was far below average for her age. Carson was also severely dehydrated and had one of our nurses check her records for any history of anemia, and it showed she had inherited the disease from her biological father," Dr. Collins squinted at his clipboard, "A _Bradley Rosen_?"

Kurt nodded slowly, "My husband, yes," he said at barely a whisper. Blaine's eyes widened behind him, jealousy creeping up his neck.

"Yes, because of her condition, there was a significant amount of blood loss from the laceration on her head, which is why she still hasn't regained consciousness. The paramedic's report also stated that CPR was performed in order to revive her on her way to the hospital."

Kurt turned to Blaine, looking terrified. Blaine only chewed the inside of his lip, his triangular eyebrows eyebrows flattening sadly.

"We have her stable now, Mr. Hummel. Her immune system was also fairly weak, which we believe is from exhaustion and malnutrition over an extended period of time. How well has she been sleeping, Mr. Hummel?"

Kurt sighed, "From what I gather, not at all. We've both been under a lot of stress lately. Sleeping has probably been the last thing on our minds."

"That's very unhealthy, Mr. Hummel. As your daughter begins to enter stages of puberty, sleep is a necessity. Carson needs _at least _eight full hours of sleep each night. To ensure she gets the rest needed, we would like to prescribe to her anti-anxiety pills, or even a strong sedative pill for the night, with your consent."

"Anything to get her back on her feet. She's been living-death the past few months."

Dr. Collins nodded sympathetically. "I'm sure it's been rough. It is recorded that her father recently passed? I'm very sorry, Mr. Hummel. My partner passed three years back; I understand how hard the first year can be. I was a wreck afterward. It still catches up to me sometimes, but it'll get better; just give it time." He held Kurt's shoulder and nodded encouragingly.

Kurt gulped. "I can only hope." He said plainly. Blaine's heart sank in his chest. Kurt was_ married_, and they'd had a _child _together.!But more importantly, his husband had _died._ Kurt was a widower, and Carson had lost her father. Blaine felt a sudden pang of guilt wash over his body, guilt and pity.

"You can see her now. She is still unconscious, but you can be with her."

"Thanks, Dr. Collins." The doctor nodded and walked off down the hallway he had come from. Kurt spinner around to face Blaine, who had stayed quiet throughout the entire conversation.

"Thanks for everything, Blaine. For being there for Carson," he looked into Blaine's eyes, "and for being there for me. You've been wonderful, and it's great to hear from you again. I just can't thank you enough." He smiled at Blaine, who was seemingly confused.

"Why do you sound like you're saying goodbye," he said defeatedly.

Kurt fumbled, "I-Ijust thought- you've been here for so long, and you probably want to get home. I just meant that you- you don't _have_ to stay here."

"I want to. Carson is a fantastic student, and now I'm an even bigger fan knowing she's yours. I want to make sure she's okay." Blaine smiled at Kurt, and Kurt nodded hesitantly, turning to the front desk.

They asked the nurse where Carson's room was, and then walked to her side by side. Kurt reached her room and froze, Blaine giving a small shove and the door popped open. Kurt gasped quietly, and Blaine patted his back, comfortingly. "My baby," Kurt let out at barely a whisper.

He walked over and sat in the chair beside Carson's bed while Blaine sat in the chair adjacent. Kurt took Carson's hand in his and whispered, "Hey, Cheeks," Blaine grinned fondly at the nickname. "It's Daddy. You're going to get better now, okay? Can you hear me, baby? We're going to get through this. We're going to get better together. I'm here now, and I'm not leaving you alone, okay?" He paused, waiting for an answer. Kurt guided Carson's hand to his lips and his eyes clamped shut.

Blaine gawked at the connection between father and daughter, almost envying them. Blaine had always wanted children someday, and hoped the relationship with his kids would be that of Kurt and Carson's.

But there was only one man Blaine could think of whom he would ever want to raise a child with; _Kurt._

* * *

A pained groan sounded quietly through out the full hospital room. Blaine jolted out of his half-asleep haze, sitting up in his chair and taking Carson's hand gently. "Carson? Can you hear me?"

Another groan pushed from her chest and she spoke groggily, "Dad?"

"No," Blaine said softly to avoid startling her. "It's me, Mr. Anderson. How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

Her eyes shot open in shock, "Mr. Anderson? What are you doing here? Where I am? Where's my dad?" Carson bolted up and yelped, throwing her hand to her forehead as she hissed.

Blaine pushed her back slowly, "Woah, don't sit up so fast. You've got a serious concussion, you'll make your blood pressure drop again; they've been trying to regulate it for a while. Just breathe with me, Carson- in and out."

He inhaled then exhaled as example, and Carson cannoned the action. She eased back onto the bed and let her eyes close, shivering lightly. "Are you cold? I can go ask the nurse for another blanket-"

"I'm trying to adjust. Just give me a second."

Blaine nodded and pulled his chair closer to the bed, crossing his arms and resting them on the edge of it.

She sighed then peeled her eyes open again. "Better?" Blaine asked, and she only shrugged lamely.

"So, your dad went home for a little. We've been here all night and he was getting antsy, so I told him to go home and shower, get something to eat- I was cool with chilling here. It took some convincing, but he'll be back soon."

"All night? What time is it?"

Blaine glanced down at his watch, "Well, it's about two o'clock in the morning. You and I arrived at the hospital around twelve in the afternoon by ambulance yesterday and your dad got here about a half hour later. But he didn't leave your side until an hour ago when I sent him home. I told him to get some clothes and stuff for you in order convince him. He was starting to think you'd gone into a coma or something. I had to give him some time to relax. We've both been pretty worried, actually."

She tilted her head to the side, her eyes curious. "We? Why did _you _stay?"

He raised his hands in innocence, "Hey, you're the one who passed out while under _my _supervision. I had to make sure you made it through or else I'd have a nasty court case on my ass." Her eyes popped and Blaine smacked a hand over his mouth, mumbling, "Prtnd you dnt hear tht!"

She tried to laugh then winced, feeling her head throb. "Ouch."

Blaine dropped his hand and patted it over hers. "I know, kiddo, believe me. It'll pass with the meds. Take it from someone who has had _many _concussions in his day." He smiled at her and she groaned again.

"This _bites._"

"Do you want me to call a nurse? You're supposed to already be on medication. They said that you wouldn't feel anything when you woke up." Blaine frowned when Carson shrugged

"I'll live."

He hesitated, but sighed, sitting back in his chair and intertwined his fingers, resting them on his lap. "So, Carson, I suggest you get comfortable. We've got a long conversation ahead of us that you would probably rather have with me, and not your dad. Am I right?"

She snorted and moved to rest on her side, facing away from Blaine. "Come on, Carson. I'm not playing this game with you. We have to talk about this." She shuffled further away and turned her face to lie in her pillow.

"We're not in school, you can't make me to do anything here."

She crossed we arms defensively, remained facing away from him, and Blaine only sighed deeply. "Look Carson, all I want to do is help. I know it's scary, but you have to learn to trust in some people. I'm here because I care, and I want to do everything I can to make you better. You can't keep shutting everyone out, it's just going to drive you insane."

Carson rolled over and looked at Blaine with teary eyes. The expression almost. made Blaine's heart collapse completely. "I'm sorry, Mr. Anderson. I just- it's hard."

Frowning, Blaine sat up back in his chair, sitting his elbows back on her bed. He hated seeing people cry; it made him feel incredibly guilty, especially when it was a child. "I know it's tough, sweetheart, but you have to try."

She let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes, nodding. "My dad's dead."

Blaine winced at her frankness. "I know, the doctor mentioned it. I'm so sorry."

She shrugged, "Yeah, everyone is. Anyway, he died six months back. So my dad, the one that's still alive, moved us back here over the summer. We're staying with my grandparents for now. At first, I was fine," Blaine popped his eyelids pointedly, and she let out a terse laugh. "Well obviously not _fine, _but I was better than I thought I'd be. I wasn't like, _depressed_ or anything. It's more like- I don't know, like," She shook her head and tightened her eyebrows, searching for words. "It's like, I was _pissed off_."

Blaine nodded sympathetically, seeing the hurt in Carson's eyes as she recalled her feelings. Though strangely, it made him feel open, in a way- as if his student actually trusted him to hear about a time that must have beenso incredibly difficult.

"I was just so angry, you know? My dad- he was awesome. He was insanely smart, and funny and nice to everyone; he was always helping people, putting everyone else before himself, even if he'd never seen the person before."

She chuckled to herself. "I remember some days he'd come home like, a hundred bucks short. Turns out he'd donate it all the people on the street with the 'Hey, I'm dying, give me money!' signs. My dad got so mad, but we both couldn't help but to laugh because he was just _so_ naïve." She smiled, but then her face stoned abruptly. Her eyes snapped shut and clenched her jaw.

"It's okay to talk about him, Carson. It's okay to smile about all the great times you guys had, and when he'd make you laugh. You don't have to-"

She cut him off, "_No_, it's not. Because all he did was see the good in people, and I know that's weird because he was a cop and all, but he was just this _amazing _ _bam_- he's dead. Just like that! And yeah, I'm pissed; I'm so_ fucking _pissed because it's _not fair_. We've got all this _scum_ mucking up our world- racists, terrorists, murderers, rapists, homophobes, _bullies_, but _my dad_ is the one who's dead, not those assholes, _my_ dad. It's just so _stupid_."

Carson scoffed, gritting her teeth. "And then_, _there's all my friends, and therapists, and teachers telling me, '_It'll be alright, it'll get better,". _Well, you know what? It's _not_ getting any better. It's _never_ going to get better because my dad is _dead_. He's dead, and there's nothing anyone can do about it; _nothing_. So you tell me; how the _hell_ does that constitute as getting better? It _doesn't,_ and it never will. _Ever_."

Carson then let go of every feeling she'd been hiding, and tears began to run down her face. She threw her head into her hands, hunching over. Sobs wrenched through her body viciously and Blaine felt his own tears brimming over his eyelids.

"It's- it's not w-worth it anymore. I don't want to b-be here, or _anywhere_." Blaine fell silent, his eyes widening. _No_, he thought, _that's not what she meant_. "I don't f-feel like I'm living, so what's the use in t-trying to."

"Oh my god," he breathes out. "You- you don't want to... _die_, do you?"

"I don't know, Mr. A." she said quietly between sobs.

Blaine hesitantly shifted up to sit aside Carson in her bed, enveloping her in his arms. She let her head fall into his chest and pulled a fist full of his shirt, and in seconds it was soaked with her tears. Blaine just held her firmly; one arm wrapped tight across her back and the other held her head to his chest, his cheek resting in her hair. _She's been doing this to herself on purpose, _he finally understood, _she doesn't want to live, she wants to kill herself._

He shuddered, only grasping on to Carson tighter, desperately almost trying to hold her from floating away. He know what to do, and only thought that if he were in this situation, he would just want someone _there_- someone who didn't tell him it's be okay, just there to hold him, and let him cry. So, that's what he did. For a while, Carson just cried. She let out everything she been holding in for _months_; it all came out in one wet, jerky _mess._

Her cries soon softened and she slowed her breathing, evening it out again. Her arms dragged under her nose and she sniffled; her eyes were red and swollen. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to cry. I-I'm sorry," she choked out, clearing her throat. Blaine sighed inwardly at the tight and dry sound of her voice. He pulled back from Carson slightly and rested us hand on her shoulders.

"Carson, _please_ don't apologize for crying. It's human; it's not something to be sorry about."

"I don't cry anymore."

Then, something within Blaine clicked. It had only then occurred to Blaine how isolated Carson actually must have felt. Up to that point, no one in his family, or even a close friend, for that matter, had died. He realized that he _didn't_ understand, and for the first time, he had no idea how to help someone.

Staring pitifully, Blaine let out a long breath, saying, "I have to be honest with you, Carson." She tipped her ear to the side slightly, clenching her jaw. "I don't know how you're feeling right now. But I can try to understand, and what I _do_ know, is that holding everything in for so long isn't healthy; mentally _or_ physically. You- you're borderline _suicidal._" Blaine said the past part as tenderly as he possibly could, not wanting to set Carson off again.

"I... I can't deny that," she said, and Blainecould almost _hear_ embarrassment and terror in her voice. "I've thought about it- just ending everything."

Blaine choked out a sob, losing all the strength and composure he'd been trying to muster up. "Oh God, Carson _no_."

She sniffled and finally brought her gaze up to Blaine, who had tears of his own now flushing down his cheeks. "Why are y-_you_ crying?"

He squeezed her into his chest again, crying into her hair softly. "Because you don't understand. You don't get that if you killed yourself, _so many_ people would miss you."

She whispered through another gush of tears, "No, no one would."

Blaine pulled her face up to look at him, cradling her face in his hands. "Carson, don't you believe that for a second," he said sternly, "_Don't_. You are worth so much more than you know, sweetheart. You father would miss you, your grandparents, your friends, your teachers, _me_."

She hiccuped and sighed, letting her eyes slip closed. Carson looked absolutely _exhausted_. "Please don't say anything to my dad. _Please_."

Blaine sighed, "You are eating yourself alive, and fainting during school is just the beginning." Blaine paused, letting the heavy atmosphere melt between them. "Do you realize how close we were to losing you?"

Pulling away from Blaine slowly, Carson shook her head. "Carson, y-you could have_ died_."

Then, Carson's tone changed. She stiffened at his words, rotating her head to face him. Her face was cold, but innocent at the same time. "No," she huffed out anxiously, "That's total _crap_. All I did was faint, for crying out loud! I bashed up my head, yeah, but a couple stitches didn't _save my life_."

"No, a couple of _doctors _saved your life." Her eyes narrowed, clearly not believing Blaine. As he sighed, Blaine shifted on the bed slightly, pausing before looking at Carson. His expression read nothing but seriousness, and it almost scared Carson because that look only made an appearance when he was upset of angry at one of her classmates.

"Carson, you fainted because your body was _exhausted. _You were dehydrated_, _your blood pressure was way too low- you were a shell of a person, with all the blood you lost- I don't know whatcould have happened if the paramedics had arrived even _two minutes _later. I actually ended up shooting home myself for a little so I could change out of my clothes, "he gestured down to his deep blue, long sleeve shirt and fresh denim jeans, "I was soaked with _your blood_, Carson."

Gulping, she breathed out "I almost died,"

"This situation was much more serious than you know. I don't think I've ever seen your father so absolutely petrified before."

Her head cocked slightly and she narrowed her eyes confusedly, "But you only just met my father?"

Blaine froze, unsure of what to say. He wasn't sure if Kurt wanted Carson to know about their past together, so he decided to leave the decision if telling her up to Kurt. He thought quick on his feet, "I spoke with him briefly at conferences last year. He stopped by my room that morning. And judging by the man I met, I'm sure he has only been so terrified few times in his life."

"Whatever."

"Carson," Blaine paused, hoping Carson wouldn't shut him out with his next statement, "I bet he had the same look and feeling as he does now back when your father died."

Much to Blaine's surprise, his comment made Carson soften. She uncrossed her arms and settled back in her bad comfortably. "You're right. I'm sorry, Mr. Anderson. I just can't let-"

"Oh Carson, good you're awake." Dr. Collins' voice rang out from the door, both student and teacher exchange a glacé that said the conversation would have to wait. "Uh oh, I see puffy eyes. Looks like someone's had a heart-to-heart."

Carson winced and seethed out, "Dude_, please _don't talk that loud. My head feels like it's been smashed between like, a _thousand_ rocks. What happened to the meds, doc? Don't you have any steroids or something to mess me up? What, no medical marijuana in Ohio yet?"

Dr. Collins smiled, chuckling. "Somehow you sound exactly how I imagined you would. Just as sassy and sarcastic as your father has been."

A quiet scoff came from the girl, and Blaine nudged her with elbow, whispering out of the corner of his mouth, "Give him some credit, Carson. He _did _save your life, after all."

"Yeah, yeah. So Doc, what's my diagnosis? How long do I have to live? I need at least a month, the Grey's Anatomy Reunion season premiere is coming up," she quipped. Blaine rolled his eyes at her and Dr. Collins let out a barking laugh.

"Kid's these days, huh?" Nodding, Blaine smiled sheepishly. It surprised Blaine how different and loose Carson was outside of class. The girl her met on the first day of school back in September was the complete opposite of the girl he was now sitting next to. Dr. Collins flipped through the papers on his clipboard, saying, "Well Carson, I think it's safe to say your body's good as new."

Her eyes lit up, "Can I leave?"

"Well, not quite," her shoulders sank and she sighed with disappointment. "We would like you to stay just a little while longer for some other testing."

"Testing," Blaine interjected. "You just said she's fine. What kind of testing does she need?"

"That's something I would like to talk to her father about, actually."

Blaine narrowed his eyes, "Well, her father has stepped out. Is it not something I am entitled to know? He did leave Carson in my care for the moment-"

"He left Carson in the _hospital's _care, sir."

Anger suddenly filled Blaine's senses and he stood, beginning to walk toward Dr. Collins, but he was beat to the punch when Carson spoke up. "Excuse me _doctor_, but Mr. Anderson has done more for me _both_ physically and emotionally in the past day than anyone else has in _months_. I mean, he's only my teacher, for Christ's sake, and he's _still_ here with me to make sure _I'm_ okay. If you have anything to say to me _or_ my father, you damn right better believe you can say it in front of him."

Both men starred at Carson as she puffed out her chest. Blaine's heart did flips in his chest. Carson _trusted _him.

Dr. Collins kept an unamused face; the nurse behind him watched with wide eyes. "Well Carson that's not our policy."

"Oh, screw your policy, and screw your_damn_ evaluations. I bet I could go online and take the same stupid test _for free_ and it would still probably give me a better reading than you." Blaine gaped at Carson, and the look she was giving the doctor- _Thank god we're in a hospital, _he thought_, because if looks could kill..._

Carson then nodded, crossing her arms. "You know what? I think I'm about ready to leave. What about you, Mr. A?"

He stuttered, not knowing where Carson was taking this conversation. "Uh, I'm ready to leave when you are, I guess."

"Good. I think I'm going to call my dad and have in sign me out of this nut house."

It was clear that Dr. Collins was very aggravated. His cheeks were flushed a hot red and his knuckles white as they clutched to shis clipboard. He took a deep breath and exhaled, putting on a fake grin. "Very well then, Miss. Hummel. If you wish against what our hospital as the opportunity to offer than I suppose I can't change your mind. As soon as your father is here to sign you out, you may leave."

"Well thanks a lot, _Doc_."

Dr. Collins left the room, the nurse trailing behind him. She shut the door and then the teacher and student were left alone again.

There was a long pause where neither of them spoke. Blaine turned to face her and he watched Carson, wondering if he had done something to anger the girl. She didn't move from her position; her arms were crossed against her body and she eyed the blanket at the end on the bed. _But she doesn't look angry_, Blaine thought, and she didn't. She had a neutral look on her face, not thrilled, but not upset. Like she was deep in thought, or something. Her face was calm, and the longer she remained still, the more apprehensive Blaine got, thinking she'd possibly gone into some sort of shock.

The silence only led on for a short while longer, until Blaine was first to speak. "You didn't have to do that, Carson. We could have just waited for your dad."

She glanced over to him, and he let out a small breath of relief when Carson finally responded; she leaned back into her pillow and sighed. Her eyes trailed up to the ceiling, "You know, I've been bashed about my dad's my whole life, but not one of my teachers ever said anything. Not one," she turned to Blaine and eyed him curiously. "Except _you_. Nobody saw how people really treated me. Expect _you. _Out of every teacher, principal, librarian, hell, even my_friends_, nobody even asked me if I was okay. But then you did yesterday. And it wasn't fake, like it was your _job_ to ask me. It was like you actually _cared_. I can't explain it. I mean, that was different for me. Then you stayed with me here at the hospital- I don't know, you're just _different_ from everybody else. You're more human; you really do _care_."

Blaine smiled w, feeling an overwhelming sensation of warmth cloud his senses. He shook his head, "I just- I get it. I get what you're going through, because I went through it, too."

She popped her eyelids in shock. "_Your dads are gay, too? _God, first Rachel, and now you! Where the hell did all you people grow up?"

Blaine chuckled lightly, "No, no. My parents aren't gay- _I am_.

Her posture perked and she jerked her head in disbelief. Carson's eyes were like a deer's caught in headlights, and her jaw almost hit the floor with a _smack. _"Shut the front door, no kidding? You're _gay_? There's no way! You're so, you're so-"

"Dull?"

"_Straight_."

He scoffed with a smile, "It's the same reaction with every person I tell! Why is it so hard to believe?"

"Because the only things even remotely _gay_about you are those saddle shoes you wear with the white soles, and all your bowties!"

Blaine threw his hand to his heart and feigned hurt. "I take offense to that! I thought you guys loved my bowties!"

"But you wear them _every day_!"

"My students never seemed to mind before!"

She rolled her eyes, "Well other than you're bowties and shoes, nothing about you says gay. Trust me; I've grown up with _tons_." She paused, laughing to herself.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, you're just really oblivious." He cocked his head to the side, waiting for her to continue. She narrowed her eyes, "You don't see it?" Blaine only shrugged unknowingly. Carson let out a heartedly laugh. "Mr. Anderson, every girl in the _entire_class is practically _in love_ with you."

Blaine froze. A large gulp forced down his throat, and he inhaled slowly. "Really?"

"Yeah! That's all any of them can talk after your class. Hell, you're all any of them talk about after class, before class, _during_ class-" Blaine raised his eyebrows, "It's a little weird. I think happen to believe they're obsessed."

"Wow."

"Yup," she said, popping the 'p' on her lips. The growing awkwardness was thick as it lingered through the room. Carson then asked, "Can I borrow your phone? I need to call my dad if I ever want a chance to get out of here."

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, sure." Blaine leaned back and went in his satchel, pulling out a smart phone with a blue case wrapped around it. He reached out to Carson, and she slipped the phone into her hand with a confused expression. As if Blaine read her mind, he responded, "It was in your pocket- the nurses gave it to me yesterday. Your dad told me to keep other with you just in case you woke and wanted it."

She nodded and pressed onto the touch screen, attempting to dial Kurt's phone number. But all too quickly, her head flushed with pain and her vision blurred a bit. "Whoa," she breathed out, and let her head fall back to her pillow.

She scrunched chef her eyelids together in pain, and Blaine was at her side in seconds. Leaning over the bed, he took his hand a out it to Carson's forehead. "Carson? Carson, what's wrong? Are you going to be sick? Is it your head? Talk to me, sweetheart. Do you want me to- should I go get the doctor? Here, let me go get you a glass of water. Just hold on a second and breath, okay? I'll be right-"

Her small hand flew out and blindly grasped Blaine's wrist. He jerked to a halt and twisted to face her. A long breath fell from her lips and she said, "Chill Mr. Anderson, you're almost as bad as what I imagine my dad's going to like when he gets here."

"What happened?"

Her hand dropped to her side and she breathed deeply again, distracting herself from the pain. "I got a head rush. I forgot that I smacked it pretty hard yesterday."

Blaine nodded, "Here," her reached for her hand and took the phone from her gently, "Let me call him."

"Speed dial one."

He brought it up to his ear saw Carson when her father's voice could be heard across the line. It was a small smile, but that Blaine remembered well, and it was one he'd cherished for years.


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N;** WELL HOLY SHIT GUISE LONG TIME NO UPDATE. Heh ... heh. Yeah, sorry it's been so long. I would tell you that my life has been crazy with school and all that shit, but I'd totally be lying. I'm honestly just so friggin' lazy. Seriously, I should win an award of something. So yeah, here's my update.

P.S.; Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Happy Hanukah, Happy Kwanza, deck some halls, jingle those bells- yeah, all that shit. xoxo

* * *

"Are you ready, Cheeks?"

Carson nodded. She sat on her neatly made hospital bed; the strap of a small duffle bag that Kurt had brought for her was shrugged across her body. "Yeah, I'm way past ready. I want to go home."

"We'll be home soon, baby. Come on, then." Kurt held out his hand instinctively and Carson grimaced.

"Dad, I'm going to be fifteen. Do I really have to hold your hand?"

Kurt smiled fondly, shaking his head. "No, baby. I'm sorry, it's just- you look so little in that hospital bed. I guess I just picked up an old habit."

Blaine sighed in content from the doorway, watching Kurt and Carson prepare to leave. He had become a different man over the past day, strangely. Maybe only in a small way, but the view he held on people and world had changed. There was a new, feathery buzz lingering through his mind.

After becoming accustomed to so much hate and ignorance from students over the years, Blaine actually began to lose hope in true love and happiness. But as he watched Kurt gingerly wrap a purple sweatshirt around Carson's shoulders, a smile glowing on his face, all Blaine saw was love; genuine, pure love.

Before he could snap back from his thoughts, Carson and Kurt were already standing in front of him with narrowed eyes. Kurt spoke, "Blaine, your face is completely blank. Are you okay? You're not going to pass out, too, are you?"

Blaine jerked his head, almost trying to shake his mind of thoughts. He half-smiled, "No, I'm okay. Great, actually."

"Well, Carson's just about ready to go. I just have to sign her out first." Blaine nodded, and Kurt turned behind him and gestured for Carson to follow behind him. She rolled her eyes and threw her hand in the air. "I'm comin', I'm comin'. Sheesh."

Kurt shook his head and chuckled, "Love the attitude, honey. Come on, let's go."

"Yeah, let's blow this popsicle stand," Blaine added, and both father and daughter turned to him, a confused expression on Kurt's face, and an almost horrified expression on Carson's. He glanced between the two, "What?"

"Mr. Anderson, that is the lamest thing I have ever heard you say. Seriously, no one says that. I don't think anyone ever said that, like ever."

He dropped his jaw defensively, "No way! I heard that Drake kid say it in the hallway last week!"

She rolled her eyes. "Well, yeah, because he's Drake. Come on, Mr. A, I thought you were cooler than that," Carson joked, and Blaine only stuck his tongue at her. She laughed a little too loudly for herself, wincing and pinching the bridge of her nose. "Shit."

Kurt eyed her sternly, "Carson, watch your language."

"Sorry," she mumbled.

Clapping his hands together, Kurt said, "Okay! Twenty minutes later, I think we've just about stayed our welcome at this place. It's-" He glanced down to his Rolex, "Two-forty-seven in the morning, and I know all our beds are begging for us to sleep. So, I say we head out. Agreed?"

Blaine and Carson nodded in unison, and followed Kurt out of the hospital room. After Kurt checked Carson out, they continued to the parking lot where they were greeted the loud boom of thunder and rain pouring down. "Shit," Kurt yelled, and pulled them back under the overhang.

"W-Watch your language, D-Dad," Carson mocked over the downfall, her teeth slightly chattering from the cold wind.

Kurt gritted his teeth, "Carson, now is not the time."

Behind them, Blaine stood with his hands in his pockets, squinting through the thick sheet of rain. He saw Carson shivering below him, and without hesitation, Blaine slid off his brown, velvet coat and wrapped it around her shaking shoulders. She looked up at him with guilty eyes and shook her head, "Mr. Anderson, it's f-freezing out here! You're going to g-get sick." She went to shrug it off her shoulders, but Blaine was too quick. He'd already knelt down in front of her and zipped her inside the jacket, arms and all.

"But Mr. Anderson-"

He tugged on the jacket to make sure it wouldn't fall off and she wriggled. "Trust me; you need it more than I do. All you have is that sweater. I've got a sweatshirt and a long sleeve that was under that. I'll be okay, I promise."

She smiled at him warmly, "Thanks, Mr. A."

Blaine smiled back, "Anytime, kiddo." he stood again, seeing Kurt pointing his phone flashlight out into the parking lot, searching for his car. However, he didn't see Carson close her eyes and suck in a deep breath through her nose. She smiled, milking in the familiar smell. Just like daddy, she thought, flourishing in the scent that her deceased father coincidently once wore.

Meanwhile, Blaine leaned in next to Kurt over his shoulder, saying, "How are we going to get her to your car without getting her soaked? There's no way she'll run; she's still tired and weak, it wouldn't be safe."

Kurt jumped, not expecting Blaine to be so close to him. He looked at Blaine with a hard, thinking expression. Glancing back into the parking lot, her said, "I parked right over there," motioning with a jerk of his head, "So, I'm going to run and pull it in over here. But you'll have to stay with her for a few minutes, okay?"

Blaine nodded, "Okay, yeah. That's fine. Be careful, though. Just because we're at a hospital, it doesn't mean you can go a break a leg or something."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I'll be right back," he said, and then took off, running to his car. Blaine took a step backwards and placed hand across Carson's shoulder, pulling her close to him.

Bright head-lights lit a small portion of the parking lot as Kurt pulled up to the hospital front, his windshield-wipers swatting away buckets of rain to clear his view.

Blaine opened the door for Carson and she plumped down in the back seat, tossing her duffle bag down to the snug space below her feet and pulling the car door closed. Blaine followed suit, sliding into the passenger's seat and pulling his door shut. He settled into the car then looked over at Kurt, whose hair looked flattened and damp from the rain. "So, you have the Navigator? God, this car had been through it all."

"Yeah, a lot of memories. I thought about parting with her a while back but I couldn't find the heart to." Kurt stuck his key into the ignition and the car revved on. He paused. "Blaine, you said you rode here in the ambulance. How did you get home last night?"

He shrugged, "I took the bus."

Kurt's face flushed guilt. "Why didn't you tell me? I would've given you my keys. I can't believe you took the bus all the way home!"

"It's not all the way, Kurt. I don't live in Westerville anymore."

Kurt blushed, "Oh. Right."

Carson eyed the two men from the back seat, obviously confused. She glanced between them and narrowed her eyes. "What are you guys talk-"

"So," Kurt interrupted hastily and Carson grew more suspicious, but decided not to push. "Blaine, where do you now so conveniently abide?"

Shaking his head, Blaine said, "Oh no, Kurt, you don't need to take me home. If you could just drop me off over at the bus stop, that'd be great. Really, I don't live too far from here."

"Blaine, you are not taking the bus in the pouring rain. You're telling me where you live and I am taking you home."

He puffed out a breath in defeat. "Okay, I'm over on West Grand, but it's totally not necessary."

Kurt nodded and began to pull out of the parking lot. "It's absolutely necessary, and the least I could do." Blaine smiled at him, and the car grew comfortably quite.

* * *

As Kurt stopped at the first red-light, both men realized they had forgotten about the small girl in the back seat. Just as Kurt was about to glance back to check on her, the light switched green. He glanced in the rear-view mirror, but switching between the road and the mirror was proving itself to be difficult when the rain made it almost impossible to see the car in front of them. Blaine took the opportunity, then, to turn around to Carson. She was leaning into the door with her head down and her eyelids connected together softly; the light huffs of her even-breathing quietly echoed throughout the car.

Sighing in content, Blaine moved back to face forward. He glanced over at Kurt who had a flat face. "She sleeping," Blaine acknowledged.

Kurt nodded, "It's always a bit of a relief when I see her sleeping. I know we've both have been getting close to none lately, so when she does fall asleep- it's just good." He paused, taking one hand from the wheel and running it through the hair on the back of his head. "I don't know what I'm doing." Blaine frowned, shifting to face Kurt. "When you decide to have a kid with someone, you do just that; you have a kid with someone. No one ever thinks, 'Well, what happens if one day I'm on my own with her one day? What do I do then?', you know? You just make sure you're ready to be fifty percent of the parental equation. I never prepared myself to be the whole thing, and now I have to be and I don't know how to be."

Kurt exhaled in frustration and focused his eyes back to the road. Blaine was at a loss for words. He'd always felt he was fully capable of giving advice here and there, but just like with Carson only a few hours earlier, Blaine had no idea what to say.

As they began to turn onto Blaine's street, he finally said, "You're not a bad father, Kurt."

Kurt remained still, only saying, "Which house did you say it was?"

"What? Oh- uhm, the beige one up here on the left. But Kurt, I really think you should stop-"

"Please, Blaine. Not now. Just- not now." Kurt veered into Blaine's driveway and put the car in park. "Thank you for all your help with Carson. I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you. It was great seeing you again, Blaine."

Blaine's heart felt as though it had been ripped to bits at Kurt's words. He didn't want to say goodbye- not yet. He'd just gotten Kurt back, and he waited too long to let him go again.

Becoming bold, Blaine reached over and pulled Kurt's car keys out of the ignition and settled them in his lap, only to make Kurt's jaw slack slightly. "What are you doing?"

"You're not shutting me out again, Kurt. I won't let it happen, not again."

Kurt shifted back in his seat, tension lingering thick and almost sticky through the air. His eye slid shut and he murmured, "Blaine, just give me my keys. I don't want to do this now. Carson needs to get home and rest."

Blaine shook his head, "It's what, two-thirty, you said? I live fifteen minutes from the hospital. And if I remember correctly, your parents live about the same in the other direction. It's dark, too. You hate driving in the dark."

Kurt kept his eyes glued to the steering wheel. "You don't know me anymore."

"Maybe not on a personal level, but there are some habits that I know you still stuck to. Like, when you're nervous, you bite you lip, just like you're doing now." Kurt blushed and slowly let his bottom lips fall from between his teeth. "See? I still know, even after this time. I know that you hate driving in the dark, and I still remember why." Kurt clenched his jaw. "And plus, it's pouring outside, so the frost is probably melting over to ice on the roads. I know it's not that far of a drive, but no one is good at driving in the rain, in the dark, and on ice. I want both you and Carson safe."

Kurt let out a tired breath, "Where are you going with this, Blaine?"

Blaine turned to Kurt, his face stern. He said with an non-faltering tone, "You and Carson are staying at with me tonight. I don't care how many times you say no, Kurt; you're staying here."

Kurt slumped back in his seat an ram his hands over his face, exhaling deeply. He dropped his hands to his lap and pursed his lips, thinking. "Well," he began, "I guess there's no harm in staying, and you're right, I hate driving in the dark, and driving in the rain. It'd be safer to stay, I guess."

Blaine grinned sympathetically, unbuckling his seatbelt. He went to get out of the car, but hesitated. "And Kurt," he said, and Kurt looked up, curiosity filling in his eyes, "I meant what I said- I'm not losing you again."

Kurt stated at him blankly, swallowing lightly. "We should, uhm, probably get inside."

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, uh," he then remembered about the sleeping girl in the back seat, "How are we getting Carson out?"

Kurt unbuckled and reached over to take his keys back from Blaine, who fumbled them back into Kurt's hand. "I'll carry her. Could you grab her bag, please?" Blaine nodded and reached behind him, pulling the bag from beneath her feet and swinging the strap over his shoulder. Kurt was already out of the car and rushing around to Carson's door and pulled it open, leaving in and taking her bridal-style in his arms.

He grunted and mumbled, "God, you're getting heavy." Kurt the stilled for a moment, saying to Blaine, "Don't tell her I said that."

Blaine chuckled, "My lips are sealed."

They both ran through the rain to the front porch of Blaine's house and Blaine unlocked the door, pushing it open and walking in, followed by a very wet Kurt with Carson covered with a jacket that shielded the rain.

Blaine led him from the foyer to the living, saying, "Set her down on the couch for now. I'll run up and grab you both some warm clothes." Kurt let Carson down to sleep on the brown felted couch of Blaine's living room.

After he heard Blaine's feet pad up the carpeted stairs, Kurt observed Blaine's home. He could definitely tell Blaine lived here; the walls of the living room were painted a deep green color that made the tone of the room calming, and relaxed. In front of the couch where Carson now rested was a coffee table; various books and papers scattered over the top of it. A wide-screen television sat in a cedar-wood entertainment center across from it. There was also a felted arm chair sitting in the corner of the room, facing the television, with a remote-control sitting on the arm. It was comfortable, it was Blaine.

Hanging on the walls in the next room, the den most likely, were various framed pictures of Blaine and other people, some Kurt didn't recognize. Kurt squinted to see one of Blaine and his older brother with a small girl sleeping his arms, and then a picture of Blaine in a cap and gown holding what looked to be a diploma in the air, along with a group of kids that Kurt didn't know. "College," he mumbled to himself.

As the wall of photos continued, Kurt began to grow angrier with himself, wishing that he was in all these photos; knowing he should be in all these photos.

One picture, the last in the staggered row, particularly caught Kurt's attention; it was of Blaine, leaning against the body of another man, both men seemed to have been caught off guard with the photo, laughing into each other with bright smiles plastered to their faces. Kurt felt jealously begin to creep up the back of his neck, his blood beginning to run hotter.

"His name's Matt. He's my ex," Kurt heard from behind him, and he jumped in surprise, he cheeks becoming rosy with guilt.

Kurt whipped his head around to see Blaine leaning up against the wall that lead from the living room into the kitchen, his hands snug in his pockets. Kurt shook his head, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snoop."

Blaine pushed off the wall and shrugged, taking a step toward Kurt. "No, it's fine."

The room grew quiet, and both men glanced around awkwardly, not knowing where to take the conversation next. Kurt felt his hands grow moist with nerves as he thought of Blaine with another man. He was almost angry that Blaine had moved on, even though Kurt had already found someone only a mere month after he broke it off with Blaine.

Because in all reality, Kurt did miss Blaine; he missed him so much sometimes it hurt. Kurt was never able to get closure because he had jumped into another relationship so quickly. There was always the underlying question of whether or not Kurt still loved Blaine.

Kurt was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a groan come from the other room. Both Blaine and Kurt moved to see Carson shoot up from her spot on the couch, squinting with a disoriented expression. She yawned, and glanced around the room. "Where am I?" She suddenly grew aware of her unfamiliar surroundings. Carson dragged her hands over her face and yawned tiredly. "Shit. Why is it that whenever I wake up, I never know where the hell I am. Is it becoming a habit or what?" she questioned to herself, and scrunched her nose. "Seriously," she said, and both men giggled under their breath at Carson. It amused them when she directed questions to herself. "I'm going to fall asleep again, and end up in the middle of some college football game, I swear!"

When Kurt finally decided Carson had had enough, he round the corner and slithered into the living room, wearing a comforting smile. "Cheeks, you're talking to yourself again."

She looked over at Kurt and rolled her eyes, "Dad, it's the only way I keep myself sane anymore." She paused to sit up on the couch, weaving her fingers together and stretching out her arms, the small pops of her bones crackled softly.

Kurt cringed, "You know I hate it when you do that; it's really bad for your bones."

She waved a hand at him, "It won't kill me. So Dad, where are we exactly?"

Then, Blaine popped his head out from behind the wall and flashed a dapper smile, "Welcome to my humble abode, Miss. Hummel."

Carson corned her neck to see around Kurt and furrowed her eyebrows, her jaw dropping slightly. She directed her focus back to Kurt and began to speak "Why are we at Mr. Anderson's house?"

"We'll, we were on our way home from the hospital, and the storm got worse. So, when I stopped to drop, uh, Mr. Anderson off at his house, he insisted that the safest thing to do was stay here until the storm stops."

She sighed lightly, still seemingly shocked. "So I'm having a sleep over with my teacher?"

"Uh, well that's one way of putting it, but I wouldn't go around and tell your friends that. It sounds a little risky." Blaine chocked back a laugh with his fist and walked over to them. Carson pull her knees to her chest, leaning back over and curling her face into the arm of the felted couch.

"What friends," she mumbled, and Blaine frowned, glancing to Kurt, who hadn't heard what his daughter had just let slip.

Blaine sat on the couch next to Carson and smiled, "I've set up the guest room for you- it's just upstairs," he turned to Kurt, who was standing with his arms across lazily, "You'll be taking my room, if that's alright with you."

Kurt's eyes widened accusingly, "I don't think that would be very appropriate, Mr. Anderson."

Blaine's eye widened and he waved his hands frantically, "No, no, no, I mean- I'm sleeping down here, you're upstairs in my room."

"Oh, right." Kurt's face heated with embarrasment.

"Yeah, right."

Then, a small snore broke through the developing silence. Both men looked to see Carson sound asleep again. Blaine smiled at her, happy to see her so peaceful. He whispered quietly, "For a girl who just got out of the hospital after fainting from exhaustion, she sure does sleep a lot."

Kurt nodded, "She sleeps in small intervals; never longer than two or three hours in a row. Maybe she'll start to get more with the sedative pills the hospital prescribed her."

Nodding, Blaine agreed, "I hope she will. She's such a good student. God, I'd kill to have thirty of just her every class period. It's sad to think she's been through so much."

"She's been pretty bad since Brad died. I didn't really see it before, but looking back now, she was a mess. We both were- are."

A sympathetic smile curled on Blaine's lips, "But you're trying. It's hard, yeah, but you can't give up."

"I know."

They looked at each other and a small spark zapped through them, and the both felt it. It was like lighting, but pleasant. Kurt's cheeks grew rosy, and he glanced away, biting his lip. The motion hadn't gone unseen by Blaine, though, who only smiled to himself. "So," he started, "It is extreme late, and you look exhausted. Lets go get some sleep, hm?"

Kurt scoffed, "We'll thanks for sparing my feelings. I must really look worn out, huh?"

Stuttering, Blaine shook his head. "I didn't mean it like that. You always look beautiful, Kurt." The words slipped out of his mouth to quickly, and the two men froze, Blaine gulping audibly. "I'm sorry- I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's okay. You're right, we should probably go and get some sleep. I think I'm gonna bunk with Carson," they both looked at the small girl curled up on the couch, "She needs me right now, and honestly, I really need her."

"Of course, yeah. The guest room is just upstairs, second door on the right. The bathroom is the first door on the right, and my room is at the end of the hall, just in case. Don't hold back to come wake up if something happens, okay?

Kurt nodded, "Thank you."

"No problem," Blaine said, smiling. "I'm gonna head up to bed, goodnight Kurt." He turned on his heels and began to head for the staircase, but Kurt took hold of his arm from behind.

"Blaine, wait." He craned his neck to see Kurt, his arm burning pleasantly under Kurt's touch. "I just wanted to say thank you. For everything; being there for Carson when I couldn't, being there for me, opening up your home to us- I know it's been a while, and I know we ended on a pretty sour note. But while we're being honest, I really have missed you. Seeing each other again- it's good for me, good for the both of us, I hope."

Blaine nodded, "Of course it is," and his heart swelled with a familiar warmth when Kurt suddenly wrapped Blaine in his arms, hugging him tightly. "Thank you," Kurt muffled over his shoulder, and Blaine quickly returning the hug, resting his face in the crook of Kurt's neck. He inhaled, sighing in content at Kurt's vanilla and musk scent. They just stood there for a few moments, fully engaged in each other. Their touch created sparks between them; the touch was electrically familiar, and they both milked in warmth.

The moment ended soon enough, and they separated, letting their hands linger on each other for a small second longer. They starred into each other's eyes, not wanting to have to leave the place they both felt was home at one time.

Kurt blushed, turning to Carson on the couch. "I'm just going to grab her and head up to bed. Thanks again, Blaine, really."

His hand motioned Kurt to walk ahead of him, "Anytime, Kurt."

Kurt nodded and picked Carson up in his arms, grunting. "God, Carson, why can't you weigh thirty-five pounds again?" He smiled to himself and breezed past Blaine. "I'll see you in the morning, Blaine. Sweet dreams," he said as his feet padded up the staircase.

He was already in the guest room with the door closed when Blaine whispered, "I'll see you in the morning, Kurt."

* * *

Got a little Klaine action, mhm mhm ;) Hope you liked it, or somewhat found this chapter more entertaining than watching grass grow, I guess.

Peace out for the holidays suckaasss,

Mancoocoo


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